


July

by cleaeos



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, No Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23854210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleaeos/pseuds/cleaeos
Summary: Inspired by the song "July" by noah cyrus. Jaskier thinks about what happened right after the mountain break up. Only angst bc I'm mean. Posting this due to overwhelming demand by my foolish followers on tumblr.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	July

_i've been holding my breath /i've been counting to ten / over something you said_

"maybe she'll make a better travel companion then." One.

"I'm not your friend." Two.

"it's like ordering a pie and finding it has no filling." Three.

"he's a..." Four.

"I just want some damn peace!" Five.

"you're on your own from now on." Six.

"fuck off, bard." Seven.

"go on. I'll catch up." Eight.

"composing your next song?" Nine.

"damn it, Jaskier! Why is it that whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, it's you, shoveling it? if life could give me one blessing... it would be to take you off my hands." Ten -

The words echo in Jaskier's head,

repeating themselves endlessly on a loop. Maybe. Maybe.. Maybe..

And maybe.

Maybe Geralt was right. Right all along, because Jaskier is a nuisance, nothing but a burden, an annoyance. And if destiny's path is full of shit, then Jaskier really is the shovel, picked up and moved by destiny's hand.

_i've been holding back tears / while you're throwing back beers / i'm alone in b_ _ed_

alone in his tent, he repeats Geralt's words inside his head. the night in the mountains is cold and harsh, his hands are freezing; shaking - but not because of the weather, he thinks of going out for a while, for a walk, maybe -

Again - maybe.

Things are never certain for Jaskier.

And that maybe throws him a while back, not too long ago, to a dirty, dusty tavern room with a particular bath in it, and he repeats his own words in his head, "maybe someone out there will want you," and he repeats the same words out loud, and they taste bitterc oming out of his mouth. but he sayst hem still, forces himself and "maybe someone out there will want you" becomes "I'm weak and I am wanting".and suddenly seawater tears are streaming down his face from the ocean eyes and he can't hide himself from himself. And he realises he is broken.

_You know I, I'm afraid of change / guess that's why we stay the same_

and he is terrified, terrified of telling Geralt the truth, because he knows it will only drive him away and they'll be drifting apart even further than they were to begin with, and he doesn't want that to happen - because he found his destiny. But he didn't know destiny could hurt so much -

_So tell me to leave, I'll pack my bags, get on the road / find someone that loves you better than I do, darling, I know / 'cause you remind me every day, I'm not enough, but I still stay_

And he really isn't enough. because when? When will he amount to anything? all he does is get himself into trouble. all he does is talk... and talk... and talk... He flirts and jokes and plays it, plays the part, because what other choice does he have? and he knows that whatever geralt will say he'll do, because he's hopeless, and helpless, and he is weak and he is wanting, and there's nothing he can do. If geralt tells him to leave, he'll do it. Because he has no courage to do it himself. And it's getting colder, and it's getting darker, and he realizes he isn't describing the weather, or the atmosphere, he is describing his own heart. And he is weak and wanting and selfish and sad, and he curls himself up to a ball, and lays down and listens to his own foolish, desperate heart beating, and he knows someone else knows how geralt's heart beats, how slowly and surely. And he lets out a cry he can't keep in, he hopes no one hears. But no, he wants them to hear! His pain... No. He keeps it to himself then, scrubs his eyes with the back of his hand, his ocean eyes that yield seawater tears, and he is silent now. And whatever geralt tells him, he will do it. Because he is weak and wanting and oh, so hopelessly Geralt's.

He falls asleep with teardrops still hot on his cheeks.


End file.
